Ties
by ASDFers
Summary: Sometimes, the smallest of connections can occur when we least expected it. Collection of one-shots; mainly friendship/family, with maybe a bit of romance later on. VIII: Lavi, the Bookman. Details inside the chapter.
1. Silver and Gold

Due to writer's block, a series of random one-shots occur.

'The Cursed Ones' will be on hiatus until the writer discovers an idea for the storyline.

Disclaimer: _-Man _is owned by Hoshino Katsura.

**

* * *

Silver and Gold**

The little golden ball flapped its wings cheerfully, hovering around a red-haired General. He was created solely for a purpose (which he didn't quite know about, anyway), but he was happy. After all, his master was kind (enough) to him, and that was sufficient to survive in this world.

That is, until he met him.

Timcanpy's first impression of the boy was a 'weak, sickly boy of indeterminate age'. As a special golem, Tim was different from the rest, who were mere metal objects. He could feel, he could express, he could do more than just a simple toy.

"Take care of this brat while I finish off some things."

Cross left more often than he did before: be it by duty, or just for the heck of it, Tim didn't really care. He had a task, and it was to keep an eye on the tiny little boy he first saw on Christmas Day.

Tim and the boy found each other's company awkward and annoying. For the boy, the golden golem was a strange flying object that was in alliance with the cruelest master in the whole universe.

For Tim, the boy was a menace.

* * *

"Go away! I don't need you, stupid thing!" Allen shouted out to the golem, raising a fist at its – or maybe _his_, presence. "Go back to your stupid master!"

Tim wanted to bite the boy to pieces; to chomp on his hands and face and feet and…anyway, so that he'd never say a bad word about them ever again. Insult him? That was alright. Insult Cross? Never.

With a swift motion, Tim flew in circles around the startled Allen and aimed for his hand. He dashed towards an exposed part of the boy's skin, opened his mouth, and…

CHOMP-

"YEOWCH!! That hurts!"

The golem found a secret joy in biting the poor child over and over again.

"Stop it, you stupid golem! Stop!" The albino desperately tried to punch, kick, or do anything to stop Tim's wild lunges. "What did I ever do to you!?"

You insulted my master, boy: Tim thought with a wide grin, showing off a set of sharp teeth.

Timcanpy's second impression of the boy was an 'annoying, whiny, weak – wait, he said that already – brat'. Yes, it had gotten even worse.

* * *

Sitting in a small, secluded corner, Allen Walker was a mess. His master had just abandoned him, his so-called pet golem didn't even like him, and to top it all off, a large horde of debt collectors were hot on his trail. After only a few weeks of being in care of the General, he was already wishing that he hadn't taken that hand on the day his father died.

Of course, Tim was devising another plan on how to annoy the brat.

Before he saw Allen's tears, that is.

"Mana…I miss you…" the boy shivered; it was still the middle of winter, and the weather was getting worse every single second. He even spotted a few snowflakes, drifting uncertainly here and there.

Tim didn't care.

CHOMP-

Tim bit the red mitten on Allen's left hand.

CHOMP-CHOMP-

Tim yanked away the woolen item, revealing a small hand underneath.

"No!"

Allen pulled away, but a tad too late. The golem hung in the air, mitten still within the clutches of his teeth. Staring at the red, cracked left hand, Tim slowed his munching and stopped shortly after.

"It's disgusting, isn't it?" Allen smiled emptily at no one in particular, shivering and flinching simultaneously as he remembered the pain, the tortures; the countless beatings from his past. Those screams of terror as they called him a demon, the devil's child…

PLOP-

"Wha?"

Tim rested his body on Allen's red hand. He glanced once at the boy's surprised face and settled down almost instantly.

"You're not…afraid…" he spoke as if it was a statement to himself, not as a questioning one.

As if understanding his words, Tim raised his head and bobbed up and down.

Allen cried. But instead of a frown, he smiled his most truthful smile.

* * *

Timcanpy didn't like Allen. 'Whiny, weak, annoying brat' just about summed it up, with a few additions as well.

But there is a large difference between the past and the present.

For Allen, Tim _is_ more than just a best friend; no one can replace Mana, but he would always love Tim.

For Tim, Allen _is_ the brightest thing he had ever seen; even brighter than his master, even brighter than the sun, or the occasional light that bounced off his metallic body.

Allen loves Timcanpy. Timcanpy loves Allen.

Because Allen is his world.

* * *

Timcanpy is strange here. A bit disturbing, I might say.

But Allen and Timcanpy share a bond even more than his friends.

And this story just proves it.

29/3/09


	2. The Samurai and the Meal

At last, another idea for the collection of one-shots. Sorry for the long wait, people.

The story may seem crazy and out-of-place...but it's there, so there.

Enjoy the story!

Disclaimer: _-man _is owned by Hoshino Katsura.

* * *

**The Samurai and the Meal**

A very infuriated samurai stormed out of a very noisy cafeteria.

About one minute ago, if the Order's clocks were right, he was calmly eating his food, and the next thing, his stupid, idiotic (wait, idiotic _is_ stupid), overly-paternal Master of his had to sit next to him and insist on him feeding the poor, annoyed, seriously pissed-off boy.

And then the boy had to stain his sword with his Master's blood because the old guy was just too much to bear.

(In which the boy muttered "Tch, I dirtied my Mugen," after a healthy dose of lashing and bashing.)

And then some crazy Finders, who were brave enough to restrain him, really did restrain him from killing the bleeding General.

(In which the boy undoubtedly changed his target to the men who were clearly older than him, yet were complete wimps, even when it comes to pinning down a mere kid. Except that the kid had a dangerously sharp sword in his possession.)

Due to popular demand, he stopped his mad rampage against the unfortunate adults and spat out colourful insults in his mother tongue.

(In which the popular demand was from a younger Chinese girl. It was mostly because she was at the verge of crying. And the boy could already imagine her maniacal sister-complex brother carrying a large drill and targeting him.)

There goes his lunch…not that he liked it, anyway. Western culinary had never appealed to his stomach. And that cook that was staring apprehensively at him was just plain rude. It has already been, what, two years, and that guy just won't stop trembling at the sight of the child.

Kanda Yuu missed his native country's food. Not that he'd ever mention it.

* * *

"Yuu-kun, look what I brought you!"

(In which the samurai instantly thought of a million ideas to finish off the old man before he can even scream for help.)

Kanda turned around with a very, VERY angry look on his face.

(In which the old man didn't seem to notice at all. Kanda slapped his forehead, mentally, mind you, and muttered a few curses before unsheathing his Mugen.)

"Now, now, Yuu-kun, don't you want to share your lunch with me? You didn't get to finish your spaghetti, did you?"

And Kanda almost snapped. But the smart-in-a-weird-kind-of-way Tiedoll had already prepared for his assault, whether it was verbal or physical.

Yet no one had expected it to be in the form of a girly-looking man with strange tastes in clothing.

"Oh, he's very cute!~"

Tiedoll had the perfect plan. A truly flawless plan, one might say. Kanda stood at his spot, speechless: it was one of those rare moments, and the old General just happened to have a sketchbook with him. Oh, and a pencil as well.

With fast hand strokes and eye coordination, Kanda's bewildered face will be etched in that particular piece of paper forever. Not to mention in the minds of his Master and the other guy. If he was really a guy in the first place.

(In which Kanda meets Jerry for the first time and decides not to kill him…because he's too unusual to kill.)

* * *

And so, the samurai was towed away by the General and Jerry, the Head Chef to the cafeteria, where he had hoped he would avoid, at least until dinnertime.

(In which Kanda stayed in a state of shock until a few seconds after the encounter.)

"Yuu-kun, please don't point the Mugen to Jerry and me! It is very impolite!"

_Impolite, my ass_, he thought with a scowl on his face.

(In which his stomach had to act up and rumble, subtly, yet audible enough for the two under his sword's threat to hear.)

"Oh, does the cutie want some food? We better hurry before he gets hungrier!"

(In which at the end, Kanda is dragged towards the cafeteria, his sword in the General's hands for 'safekeeping'.)

* * *

"Come on, Yuu-kun, don't be so sour!"

Kanda was mad. Mad to the nth degree. Mad that he could easily grab a fork and stab a passer-by – correction, any passer-by until he probably dies (because his Mugen was in the possession of his Master). Mad that he could even defy the 'no-hitting-women-especially-Lenalee-if-you-don't-want-the-Supervisor-to-kill-you' rule in the Order just to vent out his stress.

In the kitchen, Jerry was happily cooking a meal that the samurai would probably loathe as much as the last Head Chef. And he was already being relatively civil.

"Here it is! Hope you enjoy it, cutie!~"

That last statement was infuriatingly disturbing. And vice versa, the boy added with a hardening scowl.

He grabbed the chopstick that were carefully placed next to the dish in front of him and almost snapped it in half, if it wasn't for the nostalgic feeling that came back. Ah, how he'd love to eat that Japanese-style meal again…

Picking up a few strands of the familiar noodle with the two wooden utensils was an easy task for him. Raising it quickly, he opened his mouth and stuffed the noodles in it.

GULP-

(In which a sudden moment of silence occurs.)

"Well, do you like it, Yuu-kun?"

"How's the taste, cutie?"

Without saying 'A' or 'B' or 'what the – ', Kanda Yuu ate his meal almost a bit enthusiastically.

(In which Tiedoll and Jerry beamed with delight, and the rest that were watching kept watching with hanging jaws.)

And in the end, all that Kanda had to say were two simple words.

"It's good."

* * *

Yes, I purposely used the (in which...) format because I felt like it.

Please review and give comments if you feel like it. And thanks for those who've waited and reviewed and such.

Kanda is still a child here. According to the data that Hoshino Katsura-sensei created, he, quote:

"ate soba for the first time and was touched by the delicious taste, and ever since, he had soba for his daily three meals."

This occured when he was 12, after Komui arrived and became Supervisor.

Side Note:

Mugen: Kanda's Innocence in the form of a sword/katana.

Soba: Japanese buckwheat noodles, usually served cold without soup.

-kun: An honorific for children, boys in particular, in Japanese.

And how did Kanda learn to swear in English? That is a mystery we all must ponder upon.

18/4/09


	3. Doubt and Trust

Another fast chapter.

This one's shorter than the others, and it's not as humorous or entertaining as the other two.

Actually, this one...doesn't even have a nice ending. It's more of a lament of some sort. My aim in this chapter was to create a comparison between Allen and Mana's (mind you, he's not alive) thoughts about each other, so it might be off in some parts. I like playing with formats...if you can suggest any format of one-shots for me, I'd be happy to use it.

Oh, and word prompts are always welcome. Just...don't expect any sudden romance. I suck at romance, except when the two characters involved are really meant for each other...like, uh...please don't kill me, rabid fans...Allen and Lenalee?

Anyway, enjoy this lament and review. I know it's bad, so flames are definitely welcome in the reviews section.

I promise that I'll make a more cheerful one next time!

Disclaimer: _-man _is owned by Hoshino Katsura.

WARNING: Angst? I can't quite say. But it is depressing. Oh, and laments.

**

* * *

Doubt and Trust**

The white-haired boy stared at the night sky, accompanied by his golden golem, Timcanpy. His silver eyes glimmered as the full moon came into view.

He whispered a few times, each with a sad smile.

"Happy Birthday, dear Allen…"

On the twelfth hour of night, when the new day of Christmas unfurls, Allen celebrated his birthday. He was the first to say Happy Birthday, as he always does since Mana was lost from him.

Closing his eyes, the boy remembered the time when he travelled with Mana, with his father. They were the best of times, even better than the times he shared with his comrades. And most definitely much better than the times he shared with – he shuddered at the thought – Cross.

So many people have so much hope, praising him as a great Exorcist, the Destroyer of Time, a worthy companion…but do they even know what his true self is?

And as he pondered upon his life, Allen Walker thought about the path he chose many, many times.

* * *

Mana was dead. He was many things before: a Pierrot, a Walker, a Musician's Brother, the Owner of the Will, and most importantly…

He was a Father.

But somewhere in his life, he failed.

He failed to be with his son, _forever_, but he came back. And coming back was his mistake, yet he blamed his son.

He was an Akuma.

_**

* * *

**__****_

_********__Mana once said.........................................................................................Allen once said

* * *

_

_****__Keep moving forward, no matter what.....................................................Please don't leave me alone, Mana_

_  
Those promises and words that they kept forever: is it truly forever?_

****

_****__  
He taught me to love...........................................He gave me happiness_

_****__ And to believe in myself.......................................And he became my light_

_  
Allen trusted what he was; even through the pain and suffering he endured, he believed.  
_

_Mana had once lost hope, for no one could ever love a clown. But then Allen came, and he was no longer 'just a clown'._

_He was Allen's clown, as Allen was his small clown._

****

_****__  
I didn't know if he really loved me.............................I didn't know if I really loved him_

_  
Allen wanted to believe Mana's love towards him were not just lies. He wished that they were real. He wished that he was not a replacement for anyone dear to Mana._

_Mana wanted to believe that his love towards Allen was real. He wished he didn't see his brother in Allen. He wished that he truly saw Allen as his loved one._

****

_****__  
But I know that 'Allen' does.........................................But I know that he is my 'son'_

_  
Allen didn't know whether Mana truly loved him. But he knows that he loves him, no matter what._

_Mana didn't know whether he truly loved Allen. But he knows that he is his son._

****

_****__  
He said those words..._

_****__But how do I know.........................................................But how can I fulfil_

_****__Which path is the right one?................................................An impossible promise?_

__

_  
Allen doubted the things he did and the words he spoke; he doubted his path and his ways, how they changed him and created him, how they destroyed him as well._

_****_

_**He doubted 'Allen Walker'.**_

_  
Mana wanted to keep his words and his actions; he doubted his promises, yet he still wanted them to be true._

****

_**He doubted 'Mana Walker'.**_

_

* * *

_

* * *

"Happy Birthday, dear Allen…"

"Happy Birthday to you."

* * *

"Good Night, dear Pierrot…"

"Good Night to you."

* * *

That was...angsty..

I just feel very sad when reading about Allen and Mana. Sometimes, I wished that he didn't die...but it all depends on the true author, right?

Don't blame me for the excess of dots. won't let me use the format I made in Word... (annoying...)

20/4/09


	4. The Singer and the Beast

Long. Very long hiatus. And for that, I am sorry.

And anyway, there are a lot of things going on in life than just typing and reading and - you get the point.

This is a trial attempt on friendship/romance. Maybe more of friendship. I'll work on my romance story-making skills later on.

And for those who read "The Cursed Ones", the hiatus is still there. And I won't update yet. At least not until tomorrow.

Disclaimer: _-man _is owned by Hoshino Katsura.

* * *

**The Singer and the Beast  
**

Once upon a time, there was a town. This town was different from all the other towns. Everyday, songs of joy and melodious laughter rang from within its walls, resounding heartily in the thoughts of everyone who joined in the singing. It was a beautiful town indeed.

One day, a young girl was born from the hands of a master craftsman. Her golden hair fell down in marvellous strands; her face was serene and calm; her demeanour was perfect; and best of all, she had the most beautiful voice any person would love to hear.

But 'one day' was just a vague statement that could happen at any given time. For in each and every time we encounter, there must be a time when it ends. And so for the beautiful town, it ended as well.

The once flourishing town crumbled as time consumed it, turning the vivid colours of blue and green and brown roof tiles, and white-coloured walls, to a dull and dreary grey.

One by one the people left, setting out to find another town that is as good as their old one in its days of glory. One by one, they stopped thinking about their town, and one by one, they started to forget what it was truly like. Rumours spread like a forest fire; some say that the town was haunted; some say that an evil spirit lives there; some might even say that a large sum of treasure was hidden safely within its ruins.

Yet she watched it all with her unwavering smile and her once flowing hair.

And in the end, she was the only one left alone in that sad town.

* * *

The little boy was always a pathetic thing.

Born from a place he didn't remember, from the mother that threw him away before he even remembered her face, the boy wanted nothing else but someone to love him.

He wandered the ruins of an old town, always calling out for his mother and father, for the people that he knew would never come. But he kept calling and calling until his own throat was sore and until he shed tears that were neither warm nor cold.

Days pass by, lonely and empty.

Until she came to him.

* * *

Four people.

She had killed four people. They deserved it, she thought – even though she wasn't supposed to think, years of loneliness made her truly alive. Those people who kicked her, stabbed her, and tried to kill her, their expressions were truly hilarious and saddening at the same time.

As she walked around the ruins, paying attention to any signs of life, she heard faint sobs from somewhere around. Widening her eyes, she rushed past the ruins of her town and listened for the voice.

With a smile, she ran towards a small boy and touched his shoulder.

"Would you like to hear a song?"

* * *

He felt someone touch him. He had never been touched before.

He heard her voice. She spoke to him so easily, with no trace of disgust in her speech.

Raising his head, the boy looked at the person behind him. It was a young girl with the bluest eyes and the most iridescent golden hair he had even seen.

"You would sing for me?"

* * *

The smile turned into a bewildered gaze.

"No one's ever sung for me before," he said with a smile and tear-filled eyes. His face was indescribably ugly, one would say. However, she knew that they were both monsters.

She smiled back and nodded. "What's your name, miss?" he spoke again, this time trying to hold her hand.

"My name? No one has ever given me one."

She had no name. She had long forgotten her real one.

"My name is Guzol."

That name was just an ordinary name that no one would care in particular. He was ugly, repugnant, and lonely, but she came to him and gave him hope.

He gave her hope, too.

"Can I call you Lala?"

The doll looked at Guzol again and hugged him tightly. She couldn't cry; she was a doll. Aren't dolls supposed to not cry? Aren't dolls supposed to not have feelings?

"Thank you."

They sat there, together, under the starry sky above them.

* * *

Side Note:

Four people? I can't seem to remember how many she killed before. And I can't be bothered to check.

11/6/09


	5. Black and White

This time, it's Kanda and Allen. Inspired by a book I read. The protagonists are best friends: a British kid with scraggly white hair and the other one a Chinese/Japanese with long black hair. Oh, the coincidence.

Oh, and it's also a challenge to the growing number of Yullen stories. And maybe Laven. Or any weird pairings. It's a friendship story. Don't get your hopes up, crazed fans.

Thank you for your reviews! I'll try to update faster next time! :D

This chapter is an attempt on practising A against B battle scenes.

Next chapter will be an attempt on romance.

Disclaimer: _-man _is owned by Hoshino Katsura.

WARNING: NOT Yullen. Or Kanare. Not ever.

* * *

**Black and White**

"Kuso!"

"Heh, can't beat a weakling like me, Girly Man?"

Two figures moved lithely – but not quite silently – as they blocked each other's blows and tried to land a hit on their opponent.

One was a young boy, no older than 15 or 16, who had the most peculiar scar on his face and an unusual hair colour.

The other was a relatively young man, around 18 or so, who had dark raven hair and a stoic complexion.

Both were rivals. It didn't have to be proved.

"Goddamn!"

"I won't ever lose to a jerk like you!"

Because it is evidently so.

Kanda clutched his _bokken_ and swung again at Allen's head without hesitation. He moved with the grace and swiftness of a fox, but struck powerfully like a raging fire. His whole nerves tingled with a sense of adrenaline. He needed a battle: and what better way to fight his one and only rival in the Order?

A bead of sweat trickled down the side of Allen's face as he clutched his soaked shirt with a free hand. His hands were numb; wooden swords were never his strongest point, anyway. With his right hand, he absentmindedly wiped his forehead and frowned.

"Give up already?" the samurai spoke in a mocking tone, smirking as he eyed his opponent's every movement, ready to deal a shocking and numbing blow. He was awarded with a warning glare from the younger boy. Imaginary sparks flew as they held a long and hard staring contest. One of them was going to fall: the question now is _when_.

As he eyed Kanda's hand, Allen gripped the handle of his own _bokken_ tighter until he felt that it was one with him. His frown turned into a smirk as he saw a clear opening – his foe was careless enough to let his right side guard down. Lunging forward with a triumphant cry, the white-haired boy brought the wooden blade horizontally towards his torso, building up momentum, and dealt a strike towards Kanda's waist.

He forgot one thing, though: a samurai is always ready.

SLAM –

It was Kanda's turn to smirk as he blocked the hit quickly and countered with an equally hard strike on Allen's head. The younger boy dodged sideways, but he couldn't avoid the blade's hit on his right shoulder. With a groan, he fell backwards, his outstretched left hand still clutching the _bokken_.

"You should know more than to let your guard down, _Moyashi_." Kanda grasped his foe's sword and threw it aside towards an empty spot in the training hall. He had won triumphantly, and he was _definitely_ going to brag about it. Especially since his opponent was the so-called awesome 'Destroyer of Time', the idiot who survived the blow in his heart, the Baka Moyashi who just couldn't die. "Face it, you'll always be second best for all I know –"

Something in Allen, undoubtedly, snapped.

"MY NAME IS ALLEN!" He clenched his fist – yes, the left one – and hurled it towards the stomach of a dumbfounded and incredulously, _unprepared_ Kanda. Without stopping, the tall form was knocked back towards the crowd of spectators that were shouting out their protests.

"We're supposed to only watch here!"

"Spectators! What don't you understand about that word!?"

"Tch…" Kanda spat out in annoyance and took hold of his weapon. "You want a fight, Moyashi!?"

"I thought we already had one just now," said Allen while rolling his eyes. "Or are you just too dumb to know that, BaKanda?" he added with a smirk and an obvious hint of sarcasm.

This time, Kanda was the one to snap.

"YOU ARE DEAD, MOYASHI!"

And without a doubt, the _honourable_ sword spar from before turned into a bloody massacre, with blind punches, lashed kicks, shouts and curses not fit for those under 13 (or is it 16?) spat out in disgust and abhorrence. The watchers silently looked on, an amused face plastered on each and every on of them.

_Free entertainment_, they thought in unison as the pair of Exorcists beat themselves to complete and utter pulps.

And thus, the fight never did seem to cease to exist.

At least, not until Lavi and Lenalee showed up.

(In which the quick-witted girl managed to calm the two opposing forces, and the suicidal Rabbit managed to, again, derive Kanda's attention from Allen to himself.)

Black and White: two opposing forces that can never exist together.

"That was…a good fight…" Panting heavily, the white-haired boy looked at his previous opponent and outstretched his right hand.

(Of course, after being _persuaded_ by the Rabbit and the girl.)

"Truce."

Kanda looked at the hand with an indifferent face.

"Truce?"

Allen's eyes widened as he too, was hit in his guts and flew towards the dissipating crowd. He fell onto the ground with a graceless thud and blinked his eyes to regain composure. The boy's emotions were a mixture of many things: shock (obvious one), pissed-off (more obvious), understanding (it's Kanda), even excitement (another challenge).

"Tch...you're weaker than me, anyway," the samurai said before pivoting on his heels and grabbing his once forgotten _bokken_ for more sword practise sessions.

Allen shook his head before gritting his teeth, plans of revenge popping in his not-so-nice mind.

"Don't get your hopes up high, BaKanda!"

Yes, two opposing forces can never exist in harmony.

But they didn't have to. They were Black and White,

Rival and Comrade.

* * *

It's exciting to see them fight...I do adore action scenes.

Kanda's hair is black because he is Japanese. And I don't follow anime logic.

Side Note:

Bokken: A wooden sword for training. Not to be mistaken for the kendo sword, although it can be used to practise katas - choreographed stances for martial arts a.k.a. sparring.

Baka: Stupid.

Moyashi: Beansprout.

BaKanda: 'Stupid Kanda' mashed together.

13/6/09


	6. Gift and Love

Not much can be said. It's Allen and Lenalee at last! A bit of fluff here and there...wait, never mind. This chapter is a first attempt on romance, since I've never written one for a fanfic.

She's having a birthday. So what if it doesn't fit the real date?

Disclaimer: _-man _is owned by Hoshino Katsura.

WARNING: Not for Lenalee haters or haters of Allen X Lenalee pairings.

* * *

**Gift and Love  
**

"Happy birthday, Lenalee!" Komui exclaimed joyfully, pulling out a large parcel with his name plastered on the top, right next to a large 'FROM' tag. "Here's a present from your dear Brother!"

The 20th of February. It was the day when Lenalee Lee was born into the world.

"Thank you for the gifts, everyone!" She smiled at the large group in front of her: all the people from their different Departments, all celebrating her birthday.

* * *

Allen was nervous.

He was pondering on whether he should go and confront Lenalee straight away earlier, but he decided on postponing that – mostly because Komui would be there. Who knows what that freaky scientist might do to the poor boy?

Matters aside, he needed to find a way to talk to her. _Privately_. And that is why he employed the not-so-useful Lavi as his messenger/courier/trouble-maker/gift-finder. Just a few hours ago, the impertinent Rabbit had nosily placed his attention on helping Allen pick the best present for the birthday girl.

However, after many decisions, Allen decided not to follow his advice. Some reasons why not:

_1. He forced Allen to give Lenalee a hot, passionate kiss._

He declined this one quickly for obvious reasons.

_2. He suggested that Allen should marry her._

Allen stared hard and long at the Rabbit before smacking him on the top of his head.

_3. He told Allen to give her a new Komurin stolen from the Science Department._

For some strange reason, Allen would never go near one. Never again, he mumbled to himself.

_4. Too many others to state._

And thus, Allen came to a decision: he would choose his own gift to give instead of relying on someone who obviously cannot be relied upon.

He just hoped that he can come up with a good enough present before the end of the day.

* * *

"How do you like the gifts?" Lavi asked from behind a certain raven-haired man, who was trying hard not to storm off and shout at someone. It was, after all, a joyous occasion. The Junior Bookman scratched his green bandanna before handing Lenalee her present. "Here's something from Allen."

"Allen?" Lenalee looked at the small parcel in her hands and wondered to herself: where exactly was the white-haired boy, anyway?

Before Lenalee could ask Lavi about Allen's whereabouts, he patted her back and stood up from his seat next to her. "Well, see you later, then! Panda's probably going to kill me soon!" Lavi grinned cheekily and ran off, ignoring Kanda's glares, threats with Mugen, and Japanese profanities as Lavi dragged him along like a ragged doll. Lenalee smiled as well as she took a piece of her chocolate birthday cake and sat down next to Komui to enjoy the rest of her birthday.

_I wonder what Allen gave me…_she thought again before taking a large bite from her slice of Dark Forest.

_

* * *

Lenalee,_

_Please come to the rooftop at 10.00 PM. I'll be waiting._

_Sincerely,_

_Allen Walker_

The girl stared at the piece of paper that was folded carefully inside her present. It was a simple note which only had a few words. It wasn't an impeccable love poem (or any other kind of poem) that showed how much the British boy loved her. Sighing, she mentally smacked her forehead and told herself not to get her hopes up high.

_Allen might li – love someone else. He doesn't have to love me._

As she walked across the empty halls, she thought of the memories of the white-haired boy that she had loved at first sight.

_When he came to the Order, he brought me happiness. Not the happiness that my Brother gave…no, it was something else, a different kind of happiness._

_He tries so hard, but is he really happy? I want to give him the happiness that I feel…I want to share my happiness…_

_I am selfish. But I want him to love me for who I am._

* * *

The pale-faced moon glanced down at the land beneath the blanket of stars. The rooftop was the closest place that Allen felt like he belonged. Stars glittered like diamonds, strung in intricate constellations that depicted many tales. He grasped the cold metal railing that seemed to be the only barrier between his life as an Exorcist and the outside world. In his left hand, he held a small cup with a single candle, its flame flickering in the cold night air. More than often, he had wished that his life was more meaningful, more…fulfilling.

"Allen? Are you there?" A sudden voice that he always knew brought him back from his deep thoughts. He turned around to see Lenalee Lee, the birthday girl, clutching a small bag of cookies in her left hand, and the gift he got her in her right.

"Oh, Lenalee. I'm sorry I couldn't come to your party, but…Happy Birthday."

"Thanks, Allen. I thought you might like some cookies?" She walked towards the boy and smiled as he gratefully accepted the baked goodies.

"Thank you, Lenalee."

The girl was slightly bewildered. The boy would usually devour any meal that was given to him in an instant. It was unusual for Allen Walker, the bottomless pit, to just put his food aside. Seeing Lenalee's surprised look, Allen quickly gave a small smile and spoke.

"I'm not hungry."

"Oh."

They both stayed in silence, gazing at the night sky. Suddenly, Allen raised his voice and looked at the girl.

"Do you know why I asked you to come here…besides wishing you Happy Birthday?"

Lenalee responded with a brief shake of her head. "No…"

With gentle hands, Allen took hold of the letter that Lavi gave to the girl earlier. He traced the words on the paper before raising it near to the flame of his candle.

"I've wanted to say this since – forever, but I just couldn't do it."

A simple sentence appeared in the bottom of the note, highlighted by the bright fire. Three simple words appeared slowly; though written in barely visible ink, Lenalee could make out what it said.

_I love you_.

"Allen…"

"I love you, Lenalee." He blew the small flame off and hid his expression behind his bangs. A red colour slowly crept up his face as he blushed furiously. "I don't know if you knew this, but –"

She burst into silent tears and embraced the boy tightly. He raised his head in surprise, unsure of what to do.

"I love you too," she whispered softly in his ears.

Allen let out a small laugh as they both embraced each other under the moonlit sky.

There was a time when Lenalee and Allen felt as if their lives meant nothing to them. There was a time when Lenalee only had her brother to share her feelings with. There was a time when Allen only loved Mana. But that was before they found each other.

Lenalee didn't need a fancy gift. She didn't want him to give him beautiful flowers, or sonatas, or expensive items. She didn't need them.

Because she had found her love, and nothing could ever replace that best gift in her life.

* * *

Finally, a romance story. Making one is very, VERY hard for me.

Side Note:

20th of February: According to her profile, that's Lenalee's birthday.

Dark Forest: A type of chocolate cake with lots of chocolate. LOTS. I figured that Lenalee would like chocolate.

Regarding the message: I admit, I wasn't sure that the message would appear that fast. Alright, I'm slightly defying logic here. But anyway, Allen uses some invisible ink to write the secret note. He asked Jerry for some lemon juice and traced the note with his own fingers. It's said that invisible ink of that type can appear when exposed to heat.

17/6/09


	7. Twins and Bonds

Another chapter has emerged!

The other story would take a while to finish...so be patient again, please.

Disclaimer: _-man _is owned by Hoshino Katsura.

WARNING: Don't like poems? Don't read it.

* * *

**Twins and Bonds  
**

_This is the tale of two strange twins,_

_Who shared a bond that terror brings._

* * *

The First had a single stringy smile,

That never wavered for awhile,

Some say that it was from those stitches,

That gave him itches when he twitches,

His two wide orbs were strange and round,

Those that saw his whole face found.

-

The Second had some shades of black,

A tint he never seemed to lack,

Though normal looks he did possess,

He had odd dressing ways nonetheless,

With clothes as awkward as his twin,

As if through blades he's gone and been.

-

The Noah of Bonds they were once called,

And always will be called,

A name so fitting for the two,

Additions to the crew.

-

Darkened skin and golden eyes,

A tie they share of truth and lies,

A single cross on both their heads,

Became a long row as it spreads.

-

Each one had one gun in their hands,

For each shot they took, a bullet lands,

And then when they had killed each other,

Another form emerged soon after,

Of flowing hair and crimson cloak,

One that was two before awoke,

Immeasurable strength they seem to find,

Until the enemies slay their kind.

-

Long, long ago, it never came,

When two of them were still the same,

With humans they both lived together,

In olden days, in any weather,

They weren't changed, yet no one knew,

That fate would come and get them too.

-

Though immature they still do act,

They're not so nasty, that's a fact,

They weren't like the Number One,

Who killed so many just for fun,

They weren't like the two-sided man,

Both close to humans and the clan,

They weren't like the doting father,

Who had a great political power,

They weren't like the beautiful soul,

Whose respect for the leader surpasses them all,

They weren't like the dead candy nut,

Who eats all sweets without a 'but'.

-

So they, a special two-of-a-kind,

Not identical as one would think in mind,

May look and work out of proportion,

Or slightly peculiar from distortion,

Yet although both would never care,

A timeless bond they'll always share.

_

* * *

This tale that fate toys with each day,_

_Is one that you may spread and say._

* * *

That concludes the poem.

Hoping for a story? I'm out of ideas for awhile, and I've been making poems nowadays. Maybe the next one will be a story. Most likely.

Anyway, read and review, please.

9/7/09


	8. Bookman

Fishing in the stream of ideas is very hard. I've been ditching fan fiction writing a lot to write an original fiction and read books.

But no fear, this one's special.

It doesn't have the usual A and B title format. It's just plain A. And for those who haven't figured it out, it's about Lavi.

Disclaimer: _-man _is owned by Hoshino Katsura.

WARNING: Possible Out-Of-Character behaviour due to a show of emotions (Lavi being serious, for example). A possible (very slight) one-sided Lavi x Lenalee. You'd have to really read the subtle signs to find the one-sided Allen x Lenalee.

Enjoy this special chapter dedicated to Lavi. Mostly because I've run out of ideas...

* * *

**Bookman**

_

* * *

Current identity: Bookman Junior_

The Bookman Junior: he was smart, young, full of potential, and above all, a wonderful actor.

That is why no one, except his own kind knows who, or what he really is. Of course, that's not the case when it comes to the opposite.

Bookman Junior walked down a corridor. This would seem as a normal act to do, walking, but it was by far the strangest thing his 49th self had ever done.

That part of him does this.

Half-dragging a young, white-haired boy and carrying a small black hammer whilst running for his life. And on his tail was a murderous samurai with an unsheathed sword in his hands, deep frown on his face, screaming Murder (as in he's the murderer). And furthermore, a young girl with shoulder-length hair blocked his passageway, tapping her right feet in annoyance.

No, walking down the corridor was not a normal thing to do.

_

* * *

Current alias: Lavi, #49_

He held a diary – or rather, a notebook – in his right hand, flipping and reading its contents every moment or so. Two simple strides left were all it took for him to reach a large wooden door. With one free hand, he grasped the handle in front of him and pushed it open, observing the same background he always visited every single day.

An old man sat on a chair. With dozens of books stacked precariously around him, it was a wonder that anyone could spot his long, vertical hair jutting from his head. He glared at Lavi and threw a black book (20 cm thick, leather-bound) and continued reading.

"Ow! What the hell was that for, Panda!?"

A kick (50 kg, right foot, silk shoe) landed on the red-haired man's head, flinging him across the room.

That was what people observing the regular scene would say.

This is what it really meant.

Bookman Junior entered the library and looked at Bookman Senior, a sad look etched on his face. He couldn't take it any longer. He wanted to leave. The sight of his friends was painful. They trusted him. But did he deserve that trust?

Bookman Senior agreed. But his disciple had to keep going, for the sake of history and war. Call it a bashing or a pep talk, at least it worked on him.

That is why Lavi reviewed, rewrote, and jotted down for the 100th time, important information about the three most important members of the Order.

Bookman Junior looked at his own notes. Oh look, an anniversary-worthy number.

_

* * *

Case Study One: Allen Walker_

_Things to remember: Poker demon, overly-heroic, somewhat reckless._

_Personality: Innocent, naïve, hero-complex, etc._

_To Lavi: Kid, Moyashi, Allen-chan –_

"Hey, Lavi!" a figure waved at him, smiling his ever-charming smile of goodness. A person of pure innocence – no pun intended – and cherubic glory. Ironic: the boy was cursed.

"Yo, Moyashi! How's life?" Lavi mentally thought: 'It's crap', but all that came out from the younger boy's mouth was –

"It's fine, but please don't call me Moyashi!" How formal. Bookman Junior noted it down with his photographic memory.

They both walked down the corridor towards the cafeteria, chatting constantly; talking about the most trivial things (can PMS apply to men as well) to serious problems (recent Akuma attacks). As Lavi opened the cafeteria's doors, Allen barged in and ran straight towards the order counter.

Glutton, Lavi added to his observation notes.

He strolled calmly past the yellow? Orange? Vested people, and ordered for himself a nice, juicy steak accompanied by mashed potatoes. A simple meal. Carefully balancing his only tray, he walked towards a nearly full table (Allen's) and placed his own food on it. He observed from the corner of his left eye a marvellous sight of the boy's speedy munching and crunching. Shudder.

Wait, a Bookman does not shudder. He puts on a mask and laughs.

"Lavi." Well. He stopped eating. "Can I…ask you something?"

"Ask away, Allen-chan!"

"It's…not that important," Allen stuttered and fiddled with the red ribbon around his neck. "But I wanted to say this to someone." He shook his head and smiled sadly. "You probably wouldn't care, anyway."

Fire at will, his mind said. The mask said, "You never know!"

And fire he did. "What do you think would happen if the war is over?"

Lavi scratched his head and shrugged cheerfully. "We'll probably get on with out lives."

"No, I mean…how about our friends? Will Kanda go back to Japan? Will Lenalee and Komui live together again? Will you leave and become a Bookman?" Allen stopped talking and asked a last question, more to himself. "Will I still be…me?"

Bookman Junior decided to take off his mask and put on another one.

"We don't know what's going to happen, Allen," Lavi started. "We might die, they might die. We might lose." He took a deep breath and stopped. Is this what 'Lavi' was supposed to say? "But don't worry; we'll all be there for you in the end."

Allen took a chance to look at the older man's face. It was not his usual cheeky grin. It wasn't even a frown of concern.

Lavi touched his own face unconsciously. Replacing the laugh, or grin, or smirk he had, there was a sincere smile, the first since – five months and twenty-one days.

"Thanks, Lavi."

"No problem –"

"I mean it. Thank you for everything." Allen smiled – not a poker face, mind you – and offered his left hand. Lavi looked at it questioningly and sighed. Without warning, he raised his right hand and ruffled the boy's hair affectionately.

"You're too formal, kid!" he said with his trademark grin. "C'mon, there's no need to be like an old man!" Seeing the boy's stunned face turn to that of annoyance made him speak again. "Or is your age as white as your hair, Moyashi?"

"DON'T CALL ME MOYASHI, IDIOT RABBIT!" From such a small stature, such a loud voice could be produced…Lavi closed his ears and groaned. He'll need a hearing aid if the boy keeps on shouting like that.

Bickering as if they were still children – as if they were – no, Bookman Junior cannot say it. It's not allowed.

"You know, Lavi…" Allen spoke in an airy tone, as if to no one but himself. "If I ever had an older brother, it'd probably be you."

Bookman Junior gaped and watched the white-haired boy leave his side without blinking his eye. He didn't imagine those words. Allen had said what he wanted to say.

He took out his notebook again and started to write a simple statement about Allen Walker. Then again, Bookman Senior would kill him if he ever did. He stopped at the last moment and instead etched the information deep within his mind.

_Allen Walker is the brother I never had._

_

* * *

Case Study Two: Lenalee Lee_

_Info: Komui's sister. Beware of Komurins and brother. Painful past because of Levrier and Exorcist experiments._

_Personality: Protective, kind, can be annoying – sometimes –_

_To Lavi: Komui's little sister, Lenalee-chan, coffee-maker, just another Exorcist –_

Lenalee was bored.

On that very day, no one had asked her, 'let's go and prank someone', or 'do you want to have lunch with me', or even a simple complaint. Everyone was busy, minding their own business, or cowering from her brother's over-protectiveness, or just trying to get on her good side. Not that she's complaining, of course.

It'd be nice if someone came up and said what they really think of me, she mused to herself. Maybe Allen would. Then again, he's too kind to say anything bad about anyone. Except Kanda. Hmm. But the samurai's on a mission.

It'd be nicer if nothing ever happened. No Earl or Noah. No one would die. No Akumas would kill everyone. She thought again, this time with a grimace: why should we die? Is it because we are the enemies of the Earl?

While she was walking, lost in thought, Bookman Junior flipped open and read his notes. Time to gather more information, he thought with a sigh.

"Hey, Lenalee?" he started, waving frantically at the girl to grab her attention. "Why the long face?"

She turned around and greeted the man with a small smile. "Hi, Lavi."

"So, how's life?" Again with that question. It's starting to get in his head, he mused.

"It's…" she stopped and stared deep into the green eye, the solitary left one, and plastered her infamous smile on her face. "It's alright, I guess."

Any idiot could even pierce through that smile and see the truth, Bookman Junior thought. Even an idiot like Kanda – oops, hope he didn't hear that. "Are you sure? You don't seem certain at all."

"I…I'm…" Lenalee stumbled on her own words, until she managed out a small "I hate being an Exorcist."

Lavi blinked once, then twice. The girl that he knew after Komui's arrival as the new Supervisor rarely complained. Who is she and what has she done with Lenalee Lee?

"I'm afraid, Lavi. Afraid of everyone being hurt and – dying. I'm not strong enough to protect everyone…"

Slap.

The girl paused. It was only a simple hit on her right cheek which didn't hurt at all. Not even a red mark was in sight. But something in that slap stopped her from speaking.

"Stop it, Lenalee. Just stop it."

She shook her head and spoke again. "I can't even protect myself –"

"LENALEE! Can't you see!?" Lavi shouted, very unlike himself. "If you keep on saying that, you'll really never be able to protect anyone! Everyone's depending on you – depending on us all!" He clenched his fist and spoke again, controlling his anger. "No one wanted to be in this war. But we're the only ones who might be able to win it!"

"I know, Lavi…" Lenalee whispered softly. "I know."

Bookman Junior stepped forward and hesitated. He couldn't have any feelings, wouldn't. Shouldn't. She was right in front of him. Would he contain his true feelings again?

Just this once, Bookman Junior told himself. Once.

Here he was, opening his arms and embracing the crying girl, in silence, as she wept bitter tears of – regret? Fear? Shame? Even the trained eyes of the Bookman Junior could only pick up fragments of what those emotions were.

Lenalee was surprised. She didn't expect anyone, especially Lavi to hug her out of nowhere. Of all people, why Lavi? Now that was just weird.

She sniffed once and faced the man with a small smile. "Who are you and what have you done with the cheerful Lavi?" she said playfully, hugging back the red-haired man.

"Hey, I can be emotional too, you know!" Lavi quickly replied, being his old self again.

The girl nodded and stepped back, rubbing the tears from her cheeks. She dashed away, leaving a final smile and a single sentence that made Bookman Junior stop.

"You're a good friend, Lavi."

Of course it was a simple sentence, but he thought long and hard about it. Until one Finder knocked him away from the middle of the corridor, that is. Bookman Junior felt something warm light up inside him – not because of spontaneous combustion – and it wasn't something that he had ever felt before.

Oh, no, he muttered. Oh, damn. And a string of curse words followed soon after as he realised what was starting to happen.

"No butterflies, please!" he shouted out loud, ignoring the strange stares from the people passing by. Instead, he muttered the two words over and over again, all the while punching his stomach. Hard.

Even though the official side of him didn't want to know it, a part of him remembered Lenalee Lee as something more.

_Lenalee Lee – I don't have a crush on her – do I?_

_

* * *

Case Study Three: Kanda Yuu_

_Imminent danger throughout. Anger management problems? Depressed? Strange curse…_

_Personality: Anything but showing kindness and compassion._

_To Lavi: Yuu-chan, Kanda (serious), call names that make him angry_

"YUU-CHAN! WELCOME BACK!" Lavi rushed past the unfortunate spectators he trampled through and flung himself, literally, into the dark figure of a very dark and angry samurai.

No surprise that all he got was a beating and a lashing.

At any rate, Bookman Junior had to keep his Lavi mask on again. At least around Kanda. He's an idiot –

"Atchoo!" Kanda rubbed his nose, somehow managing to retain his elegant and calm composure.

– but hopefully not superstitious.

"So, Yuu-chan! What did you do in the mission – eek."

"Don't. Call. Me. That." A sword was lodged exactly 3 millimetres from Lavi's left ear, piercing through a metal wall. Behind the wall was one man with thick glasses and a cup of coffee, silently praying for safety as he eyed his useless robot. So much for Komurin's extra security systems.

Does Lavi really accept Kanda Yuu as a friend? Bookman Junior wondered for awhile before asking the question he had asked twice.

"So, how's life, then?"

"Why the hell are you asking, Baka Usagi?" Kanda replied menacingly, grasping and pulling out his sword as if it was a butter knife in, well, butter. "It's crap as always."

Predictable of a not-so-sociable and compatible person to provide a similar answer as mine, thought Bookman Junior with a hidden smirk. "Aw, don't say that, Yuu-chan! Aren't you happy – eh."

"I TOLD YOU, DON'T CALL ME THAT!"

A series of battle scenes occur before Lavi was left lying in a forgotten heap, saved only by a kind passer-by. Kanda made his favourite 'tch' before rounding a corner swiftly. No, Lavi would not lose him. Not before he gathered enough info for the 100th time.

"Wait for me!" he shouted, running, despite his bloodied and bruised form towards Kanda. Time to get serious. "Are you alright, Yuu? Was the mission hard?"

"Don't call me that," Kanda replied again, this time a bit bored. And was that exhaustion in his voice? "What, hoping I would lose and die?"

"Of course not –"

"Damn right, I never lose against worthless scum like Akuma." But clearly, you're limping a bit, thought Bookman Junior. That's why it was easier to keep up with you. "They weren't even worth the time to…kill…"

"Alright, quit the act," Bookman Junior intervened, steadying the samurai's posture. "You're obviously hurt, Baka."

"BAKA!?" Kanda started, unsheathing his sword, before his companion cut his words and action short.

"It's not that hard to see that you didn't come out of the mission unharmed. Damn it, Yuu, why can't you just admit that you're as weak as some of us as well!?" he raised his voice as far as he could go without alarming the other people that were walking around. "We're all human! We can bleed and die! And if you keep on thinking that you're invincible, you'll probably lose everything in the end!"

Kanda could do nothing but stare at the suddenly serious Usagi with an apathetic expression.

"You have the others behind you. We got your back, so you've got to keep yours steady so we can watch over it!" Lavi finished with an exultant grin.

"Tch, what the hell are you blabbing on about, Baka Usagi?"

At least I tried, Bookman Junior thought. Too much, he added with a frown that could easily be passed off as disappointment.

"I'm going to the Medical Ward. Don't. Follow. Me." The samurai made a perfect 180-degree spin and walked away, leaving the Rabbit with a shocked face.

Kanda Yuu actually took his (hidden) advice, albeit in a simpler form.

"Now it's Kanda?" he muttered with a small smile. Now he had something else to say about him. Which cannot, under any circumstances, be seen by Bookman Senior.

_Kanda Yuu is my best friend. A stubborn one, that is. Or possibly an enemy. Best Frenemy. Nice word._

_

* * *

Special Study Case: Bookman Junior_

_Reckless, annoying, may be obnoxious, overly-emotional, gets carried away in trivial matters, etc._

"Reporting for duty."

"Well? Did you get any important information on those three main ones?"

"Sort of –"

" – is not a valid answer, Lavi."

"Ow!"

"Think about what you obtained today. Anything important that caught your mind?"

Bookman Junior rubbed the side of his aching head and nodded after a short moment. He smiled.

"Yes. Yes, there were."

_After all, what good is a book without a soul, a story, and a rebellious heart?_

* * *

Not up to your expectations? Feel free to comment on it.

**Footnotes for the foolish (or just plain bored).**

Baka Usagi: Stupid Rabbit. Japanese.

Moyashi: Beansprout. Japanese.

The number 100: Anniversary-worthy, because people seem to love associating it with special things. Like the 100th year that this magazine was published or something like that.

After all quote: Inspired by - something only vaguely remembered.

Sneezing: Japanese people have a belief. Sneeze once: someone's talking about you. More than thrice: you're sick. Something like that. I think.

Frenemy: Portmanteau (blended word) of 'friend' and 'enemy'.

Read and review. Cheers.

31/7/09


End file.
